


Hard Rain

by zubeneschamali



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: 80sflashback, M/M, geologist!Jensen, photographer!jared
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-16
Updated: 2017-11-16
Packaged: 2019-02-03 02:50:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,464
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12739497
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zubeneschamali/pseuds/zubeneschamali
Summary: Jared is a photojournalist who's used to dangerous situations, but none of his assignments have ever been quite like this one in the beautiful mountains of the Pacific Northwest. Geologist Jensen Ackles is exactly Jared's type, but what are the odds that he shares Jared's proclivities? And then there's the volcano looming over them that could erupt at any minute…





	Hard Rain

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not quite old enough to remember the 1980 eruption of Mt. St. Helens, but I was obsessed with it as a kid, and it even made me want to become a volcanologist. I've been there a couple of times since, and it's really an incredible place. So when I saw loracine's art about the eruption, I had to pick it up and run with it. I hope I was able to do justice to both [her wonderful art](https://loracine.livejournal.com/36090.html) and to the mountain. And thanks to loracine and the mods both for being patient with my slow responses; it's been a busy fall. 
> 
> I also need to thank ilikaicalie for taking on a last-minute beta and doing a wonderful job of it! Thanks for helping me out.

May 16, 1980  
Gifford Pinchot National Forest  
Washington State

"So how dangerous is it to be out here, anyway?"

The petite brunette driving the Jeep glanced at Jared, one eyebrow raised. "Are you worried about bears or something?"

Jared stared back at her. "Nooooo," he drew out. "The volcano."

Her next glance was more sly, and Jared realized he'd been had. "Come on, Cortese," he said, giving her shoulder a light shove while being quietly pleased that someone he'd just met felt comfortable enough to tease him. "I'm a photojournalist, not a science writer. I don't know anything about geography."

"Geology," she corrected him. She slowed down and shifted gears as they approached a switchback. The Jeep climbed smoothly through the tight turn, although the view of tall evergreen trees surrounding them on all sides didn't change. Every once in a while, Jared caught a glimpse of a tall, snow-capped mountain peeking over a hill, but Genevieve had already told him that was Mount Rainier, not the more active peak they were heading towards.

"So you've been up here before?" he asked. "Recently?"

"A couple of times," she said. "The readers of the Seattle Times are very interested in what's going on up here."

"I can imagine," he replied. "I mean, if it erupts, it's practically in their backyards."

"It's a popular vacation spot, too." Genevieve shifted into a higher gear as they hit a relatively long straightaway, still climbing up the mountainside. "Scout camps, summer cabins, things like that. More people from Portland than Seattle, but there's still quite a few."

"But they're not out here now," Jared said. "I mean, it's only mid-May. There's got to be a lot of snow up here still, right?"

"A little," Genevieve replied. "I mean, okay, I'm from Idaho. There's not really any snow as far as I'm concerned. But if you're from Puget Sound, where it hardly ever snows, you might come up here to see it. Plus, there's some people who live here year round and haven't left."

"I would have gotten the hell out of town weeks ago," Jared replied. "As soon as someone told me a mountain might explode."

She smiled. "Not everyone wants to leave their home," she said. "Some people have lived all their lives up here and don't think there's any danger. They feel like they understand the mountain, and it's not going to hurt them."

"You've talked to them?" Jared asked.

Cortese nodded. "There's only a few who have stuck around after the evacuation orders went in. The police aren't going to force them out, and they seem okay with being on their own."

"Do _you_ think they'll be okay?" Jared asked.

She was quiet for a moment, navigating a series of turns as they curved their way along the hillside. Finally, she said, "I've also talked to a lot of scientists who have been here for weeks, or even months. Including the one you're out here to interview. There's a chance the small eruptions so far have released enough pressure to cool the whole thing down. But based on what they've told me, I don't see how this mountain _doesn't_ blow. Like no one around here has ever seen." 

They both went quiet after that. Jared folded his arms over his chest, staring out the windshield of the Jeep. He understood that people didn't want to leave their homes—it happened in Texas whenever there was a hurricane warning. But a hurricane was something you could prepare for and hunker down against. A volcano, on the other hand…He'd seen videos of flowing lava in Hawaii consuming an entire town. There wasn't anything humans could do to stop something like that.

On the other hand, maybe this mountain wasn't that big, or didn't erupt in that way. Genevieve had told him Mount Rainier was much bigger, so maybe—

They rounded a curve, and Jared let out a gasp. 

There was a break in the trees and a small pull-out across the road. Genevieve steered the Jeep into it, aiming it right at the massive, serene, snow-capped peak that had appeared out of nowhere but looked close enough to touch. "Welcome to Mount Saint Helens," she said, bringing the Jeep to a halt.

Jared climbed out, camera already in hand. It was as clean and symmetric a peak as he'd ever seen, the same evergreens that surrounded them marching up to meet an undulating line of snow that covered the top of the mountain. He shot a few pictures, framing them with the trees around the pull-out. He wondered if he should put on the telephoto lens, then realized they were probably going to drive even closer. Still, it was good to have a few establishing shots, even if they were from a distance.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" Genevieve asked. "They call it the Mount Fuji of North America."

Jared nodded. "It's a shame the top of the peak looks dirty, though. Has it not snowed recently?"

She gave a half-laugh. "That's ash, Jared. It's been quiet for a week, but no, it hasn't snowed since."

He stared at the mountain. There was no smoke or steam visible, no sign that it was anything but an inert lump of rock like every other mountain he'd ever seen. To see the proof that this was very much an active volcano, even if it was just grey streaks of ash that had fallen days ago, sent a shiver down his spine. 

Jared turned around to see Genevieve regarding him with a sympathetic smile. "It's only about another fifteen minutes from here," she said. "There'll be a better view up there."

He nodded and climbed back in the Jeep, making sure his camera equipment was secure before they pulled back onto the rutted logging road.

The mountain was visible around every bend in the road now, and Jared couldn't take his eyes off of it. All of the mountains up here were beautiful, of course, but there was something especially breathtaking about St. Helens. And that was regardless of the grey-streaked top hinting at something dangerous underneath.

They rounded a corner, and a broad, flat meadow spread out to their right, a bright green carpet dotted with yellow and purple flowers. "Here we are," Genevieve said. She pulled off the road onto a side track, and they lurched up and around one last curve before pulling to a stop next to a sage green pickup with USGS painted on the side.

Jared climbed out of the Jeep, leaving his camera on the front seat for now. "Hello?" he called out.

There was a camera set up on a tripod, aimed at the volcano. There was a series of boxes and instruments clustered at the base of the camera. A green folding lawn chair was next to the cluster of instruments, and a brown tent was pitched a few feet away under a stand of evergreens, on the far side of a fire ring. But Jared didn't see anyone at the site.

"Dr. Ackles?" Genevieve called. 

A moment later, a voice came from the tent. "Yeah?"

"It's Genevieve Cortese? From the Seattle Times?"

"Oh!" There was a rustling sound, and then a head of sandy brown hair was poking out of the tent before Dr. Ackles scrambled to his feet. He ran a quick hand through his hair before standing upright and coming towards them. "Hi," he said. "Sorry about that. Just taking a rest."

Genevieve was saying something about how it was okay, but Jared was dumbstruck. Dr. Jensen Ackles was _gorgeous_. He'd been picturing either some nerdy professor who was roughing it as best he could in the wilderness, or a taciturn mountain man type who had no use for journalists. This guy was none of the above. The freckles scattered across his face suggested he spent plenty of his days outdoors, but the hint of stubble along his jaw meant he also brought a razor with him to the woods. And then there were his moss-green eyes and his full lips, and Jared tore his gaze away before he embarrassed himself by staring too long at another man.

"And this is Jared Padalecki," he heard Genevieve say.

He'd tuned back in just in time for him to extend a hand towards Dr. Ackles. "Pleased to meet you," Jared said with a friendly smile.

"You, too." Ackles' grip was firm and strong, and Jared was instantly charmed by the way his eyes crinkled when he smiled. 

"Thanks for meeting with us, Dr. Ackles," Jared said when he reluctantly let go of his hand.

"It's Jensen, please. And it's not like I have a lot to do right now." He spread his arms wide, one hand gesturing towards the volcano. "She's been pretty quiet."

"So you're just monitoring up here?" Jared asked.

Jensen raised an eyebrow. "I don't know that I'd say 'just.' I mean, we're the ones who are going to sound the first alarm when she blows."

"Right. No, I mean, yeah, of course." Jared ran a hand through his hair. "Sorry."

"No problem. It's the kind of job where you hope it stays boring, you know?"

"Yeah, I can see that." He gave Jensen a small smile and was relieved to have it returned.

Genevieve cleared her throat. "So. I wanted to check in on what's new with the mountain, and then Jared had a different set of things to talk to you about, right?" 

"Oh, right. I'm a photojournalist from the Dallas Morning News, and we think our readers would like to hear about a guy from Dallas who's up here watching a volcano. So they sent me up here."

"So, human interest?" Jensen asked.

"Kind of. I mean, not as sciencey as Genevieve's articles will be, but it'd be cool to explain what's going on with the mountain. Like, how'd a guy from Texas get interested in volcanoes when we don't have any?"

"What part of Texas are you from?" Jensen asked.

Jared cocked his head to the side. "You heard the accent?"

"That, and you said, 'we.'" Jensen grinned, and Jared felt like he'd been momentarily blinded. "I don't hear folks talkin' like home too often up here."

"I bet not," Jared replied. "Uh, I'm from San Antonio."

"Eh, I guess that's close enough." Jensen dropped him a wink before turning to Genevieve. "You ready for your update?"

"Definitely." She had a small tape recorder in one hand, and a notebook and pen in the other. "Can we sit down?"

"Sure thing. Mr. Padalecki, can you grab the two folding chairs from the back of the truck?"

"It's Jared," he replied, turning away before either Jensen or Genevieve could see the ridiculous grin spreading across his face at something so simple as Jensen getting his last name right. _He's a scientist, he's trained to be observant_ , Jared told himself as he grabbed the two cheap folding chairs and trotted over to where the other two were standing by the camera.

As he got closer, he saw Jensen pointing towards St. Helens and saying, "Our best estimate is that it's rising about five feet a day."

Jared nearly dropped the chairs. "The mountain?" 

"No, the bulge on the northern face." Jensen adjusted the angle at which he was pointing. "It's a little tricky to see from where we are, but there's this growth on the northern slope. It's been at it for a couple of weeks now, not long after the four-hour eruption we had on the eighth."

"Is that from a secondary magma chamber?" Genevieve asked. 

"Probably," Jensen replied. 

"Is that…normal?" Jared asked. 

"Not from what we know of St. Helens," Jensen said. "But then, we're learning something new almost every day we're out here."

"Like what?" Genevieve asked, pencil and notebook at the ready.

Jared tried to follow their conversation, but he didn't have the science background they did, and he wasn't about to interrupt to ask his own dumb questions. So instead he pretended to pay attention, mostly using it as an excuse to watch Jensen as much as he thought he could get away with. 

It had been mid-morning when they arrived at the meadow, and it was getting close to lunchtime as they talked. The first rumble of Jared's stomach was something he felt rather than heard. A moment later, the growl was audible right in the middle of Jensen's description of the lasers they were using to try and measure how fast the bulge on the mountainside was growing. Jared clapped a hand to his midriff in embarrassment. "Sorry 'bout that."

"You mean that wasn't an eruption starting up?" Genevieve asked.

"Ha ha," Jared retorted. He jerked a thumb over his shoulder, towards the Jeep. "We brought sandwiches; does anyone else want one?"

The other two nodded, and he went over to dig the cooler out of the back. There wasn't a picnic table anywhere to be seen, but he could use the cooler as a low table, and he set out the sandwiches and opened a bag of potato chips alongside.

"Wow, this looks great," Jensen said when he finished up his response to Genevieve's latest question. "I've been eating freeze-dried backpackers' meals for the last few weeks, so fresh meat sounds awesome." 

They all started munching away, and Jared relaxed into his chair, legs stretched out in front of him. "It's really beautiful up here," he said. "So quiet."

"Right now, at least," Jensen reminded him. 

"Yeah." He finished his next bite before asking, "When was the last time it erupted?"

"In 1857," Jensen replied. "Before that, 1800."

"So people have always known that it's active. It's not really a surprise."

"Sort of. The Native Americans knew it went off pretty regularly, and some of the first Europeans who came out here saw it. But a hundred and twenty-three years ago is a long time, you know? Certainly no one who's alive today has seen it erupt before, and then it just becomes like any other dormant volcano in everyone's minds."

Jared nodded and finished off his sandwich before reaching for another one. "I didn't think there even were volcanoes in the U.S. except for Hawaii."

"Even around here, there's probably people who think that." Jensen shrugged and brushed his hands together, a few crumbs falling onto the ground. "Which is what makes my job so interesting."

"Which is a great segue into Jared's interview," Genevieve said. She pointed at him. "You still want to stay up here?"

He nervously glanced at Jensen. "I didn't get a chance to ask yet. Um, would it be possible for me to stay up here for a few days?"

Jensen raised an eyebrow and swept an arm around. "It's a National Forest. Feel free to stay as long as you want."

"A National Forest that’s under an evacuation order," Jared replied. 

Jensen tilted his head to the side as if to say, _Fair enough_.

"The thing is, I thought it might be easier if I stayed here for a little bit. I'd get to see you in action, take some pictures of what your work is like, and then Genevieve would come back up to get me. I brought my own tent and food and stuff. But I don't want to get in your way." Jared held his hands up. 

"It's fine with me, as long as you agree to go when I say go," Jensen said. He leaned forward, looking Jared in the eye. "I mean it. If we have to leave, you're not gonna have time to pack up your gear. If you've got any really valuable equipment with you, you might want to send it back with her."

Jared swallowed. "I'll keep that in mind."

"All right. Just want you to know what you're getting yourself into here."

"Yeah, I get it." Looking into Jensen's eyes, Jared's mouth had gone dry, and he nervously licked his lips. It was probably purely wishful thinking, but he thought Jensen's gaze had flickered down to his mouth. _Don’t even think about it_ , he told himself. If the good doctor knew of Jared's preferences, he would probably make him walk all the way back down the mountain. 

"I might ask you to earn your keep, though," Jensen said, a smile playing around the corners of his lips.

"What?" Jared asked, cursing to himself when his voice cracked on the word.

"Reading some of the instruments. It's easier with two people," Jensen replied. 

"Oh, right. Of course." Jared gave him a quick grin. "Whatever you need."

He helped Genevieve get his tent and duffel from the Jeep before packing the cooler back in. "Three days, you think?" she asked.

"Yeah, I don't want to take up any more of his time."

"Okay, then I'll come back for you on the twentieth." She looked over her shoulder at Jensen and sighed. "It's so unfair."

He cocked his head to the side. "What do you mean?"

She lowered her voice. "I would _love_ to be spending three days up in the woods alone with that gorgeous man. Shame it's all going to waste on you."

"Yeah, it's a shame." Jared gave her a half-smile, partly relieved that she hadn’t caught him staring at Jensen and partly sad that he had to pretend to agree with her. On the other hand, she was surely right about nothing interesting happening between him and Jensen. It just wasn't true that it would be wasted on Jared.

Once Genevieve had driven away, Jared hauled his gear closer to the campsite. "Mind if I pitch my tent?"

Jensen waved a hand. "Wherever you want. Just make sure there's no food in it. All the food stays in the cab of the truck."

"Raccoons?" Jared asked hopefully.

"Bears," Jensen replied. He must have seen the consternation on Jared's face, for he quickly said, "Black bears. More of a nuisance than anything else."

"Right." Jared found himself wishing he'd heard that little detail before agreeing to spend three days out here. Then he sternly reminded himself that he was here to do a job, and that the volcano was probably a bigger threat than the bears anyway, and that really didn’t help.

When he was done with the tent, he got out his camera. "Can I set up a tripod next to yours? It's not going to get in the way of any of the equipment, is it?"

"Yeah, sure, go ahead." Jensen was sitting in his camp chair, looking out at the mountain. "This is about as close as anyone's been able to get shots, I think, except from Coldwater I."

"What's that?" Jared asked as he unfolded the legs of the tripod. 

"It's one of our research sites, west of here." Jensen pointed towards the hillside rising to their right. "It's pretty much due north of the mountain, and a little bit closer than us. That’s where they're taking the laser measurements from."

"Have you been over there?" Jared asked.

"Yeah. The view's about the same. Honestly, I'd rather be here. Easier to get back to the main road if we have to."

"Right." Jared screwed on the telephoto lens and set the camera on the tripod. Through the viewfinder, the mountain looked close enough to touch. "Wow. I see what you mean about that bulge."

"Yeah. We're definitely keeping a close eye on that."

"I bet." Jared took a series of pictures, focusing on the top of the mountain. Again, now that he was looking through the telephoto, he could see that the peak wasn't as perfect as it had appeared from a distance. "Is there a crater on the top?"

"Yep, that's been forming with the little eruptions. Rock gets pulverized and thrown up as ash, and the mountain loses a little height. If she calms down without a major eruption, she'll build herself back up again as the magma dome slowly grows. Should be as pretty as ever."

"Is that how all the mountains up here grow?" Jared asked. He angled the camera up, to get the silhouette of the peak against the bright blue sky.

"In part," Jensen replied. "We're on the edge of the Pacific and North American plates here. Basically, as they push against each other, the Pacific gets shoved underneath because the water on top makes it heavier. When it gets far enough down, the rock of the plate melts with the Earth's heat, and that magma forces its way up to the surface. Voila." He gestured at St. Helens. 

"So what got you interested in all this in the first place?" Jared asked. "There's not a lot of volcanoes in Texas."

"Is this the interview part of the conversation?" Jensen asked, sounding amused.

Jared shrugged, still taking pictures. "If you want."

"Okay. I started in geology at UT to be an oilman like my father. But in the introductory classes, I learned about volcanoes, and I kind of got hooked."

"I can see why," Jared said. "This is fascinating, being out here like this."

"Honestly, most of the time it's really boring," Jensen replied. "And if it gets really exciting…it's not actually a good thing."

"Have you ever been in an eruption?" Jared asked.

"Kind of," Jensen replied. 

Jared turned to look at Jensen over his shoulder, raising his eyebrows. "What do you mean, 'kind of'?"

"It was in Hawaii," Jensen replied. "Kilauea had one long eruption from 1969 to 1974. I went out there as a Ph.D. student to study it."

"That must have been so cool," Jared said. "Did you get to walk out on it? The lava?"

"Yeah, it was pretty amazing," Jensen said. "It's totally different, though. Hawaii has shield volcanoes: there's not much gas trapped in the magma, so it just kind of oozes or fountains out. Here, though, the magma is more sticky. So it gets clogged up in the vents, and sometimes the pressure builds up too much and it explodes. Rock, ash, pyroclastic flows, the whole bit. Much shorter-lived, but much more dangerous."

"How different are they? I mean, you said you studied one kind for your doctorate, and now you're here studying the other kind."

"Good question." Jensen's eyes twinkled. "You want to start taking notes now?"

Jared figured he could at least try to keep up, and so he fished the notebook and pencil out of his camera bag before dropping into another camp chair. "Go for it," he said with a grin.

 

They talked for hours, until the sun had traveled well across the sky and Jared's stomach was rumbling again. He'd taken notes for the first hour or so, but after a while, the conversation was less about formal education and the lure of volcanology, and more about the Dallas Cowboys. 

He'd also turned his camera on Jensen and taken a few pictures of him sitting relaxed and easy in the camp chair, oversized sunglasses and USGS ball cap protecting him from the sun. Looking through the viewfinder, it was easier for Jared to let himself look at the breadth of Jensen's shoulders under his flannel shirt and the way his bowlegs curved even when he was sitting down. 

It was probably for the best that he was only up here for a couple of days, so he didn't get himself into any trouble.

"Don't suppose you brought any more of those sandwiches for dinner?" Jensen asked with a hopeful lilt to his voice.

Jared regretfully shook his head. "Same freeze-dried goods you've been eating, I'm afraid." 

"Ah, well." Jensen gave him a small smile. "Maybe the company will make it taste better."

Jared had to look away so Jensen wouldn't see the flush he could feel on his cheeks. "It must get pretty quiet up here by yourself."

"Yeah, it does, but that's okay. Usually I'd rather be by myself."

"Oh." Jared felt an awkward twinge. "Sorry, I wish I'd known that before I invited myself up here."

"No, it's okay. I've been up here alone for most of the past month. Kind of nice to have someone else to talk to." Jensen's smile was warmer that time. "Especially another Texas boy." 

"Well, in that case." Jared dropped into his chair and nodded at the camp stove perched next to the fire pit. "Fire it up."

They ate their reconstituted beef stroganoff with the same casual conversation they'd been having. Jared learned that Jensen had the same combination of an older brother and younger sister in his family, though when Jared mentioned that his older brother was even taller than him, Jensen's eyes seemed to glaze over briefly. 

When Jared scraped the last of his stroganoff out of the foil container, he sighed and sat back in his chair. "That wasn't half bad."

"Try eating it every day for a week," Jensen retorted. 

Jared wrinkled up his nose. "I'd get tired of anything after a week."

"Exactly." Jensen rose to his feet and reached out his hand. "Gimme your trash."

"I should clean up," Jared said. "You made dinner."

"I heated up the stove," Jensen replied. "Besides, there's no cleaning up. Just putting the garbage in the bear-proof truck."

Jared drew his head back. "Even the garbage has to go in the truck?" 

"If there's food scraps, yes, it does." Jensen gave him a small salute. "Be right back."

Jared tried to be strong, but he couldn't resist watching Jensen as he strode away from him, bowed legs carrying him over the grass. His gaze drifted lower, but Jensen's jacket was low enough that it blocked the most interesting view. 

When Jensen got to the truck, he paused and looked over his shoulder.

Jared quickly looked away, cursing silently to himself as he felt his cheeks heat up. It was getting dark, so maybe Jensen hadn't seen him checking him out. He could only hope so.

When Jensen made his way back over, he moved his chair closer to Jared's. "Getting dark," he said.

"Yeah." Jared zipped up his hoodie. "Gets cold up here, I bet."

"Not below freezing, but cold enough. 'Specially for a Texas boy, I bet."

"Well, I'm usually too warm, so my tent should be fine."

Jensen opened his mouth to say something else and then stopped. He briefly shook his head, pressing his lips together before looking away.

Jared cocked his head to the side. "What is it?"

"You, uh." Jensen moistened his lips. "You travel a lot for your job, right? Must make it hard to have a steady girlfriend or wife."

There was something in the tone of Jensen's voice that had Jared's heart rate speeding up. He was probably imagining it…but that almost-question did come from out of the blue. "Yeah, it would make it hard," he replied, shifting forward a bit in his seat. "So it's just me."

"Hmm." Jensen's response was noncommittal, but in the fading daylight, it seemed like there was a question in those gorgeous green eyes. 

Jared cleared his throat. "How 'bout you?"

"It'd be kinda hard with my lifestyle," Jensen replied, his Texas drawl thicker than it had been a moment ago.

That was about as clear of a signal as Jared was going to get. Still, he swallowed hard before saying, "That's too bad. Seems like a good-looking guy like you could have anyone he wanted."

The way Jensen's eyes trailed down Jared's body removed the last of Jared's doubt. When he met Jared's gaze again, he said with a rueful quirk of his mouth, "That can get a little complicated."

"Doesn't have to be," Jared replied, and the flash of relief on Jensen's face had Jared rising to his feet and holding out his hand, heart racing even faster, but for a new reason.

A moment later, they were safely zipped inside Jensen's tent, lit by the glow of a camp lantern. The tent was low enough that they'd had to crawl in, and so it was easy enough for Jared to shuck off his shoes and unzip Jensen's sleeping bag before slipping into it. 

Jensen followed, rolling on top of Jared with a grace and confidence that sent a shiver down Jared's spine. Weight on his forearms at either side of Jared's head, Jensen drove his hips down in a lazy thrust that had Jared's brain nearly short-circuiting.

"Here, just—" Jared yanked open the button fly of his jeans, sighing in relief as Jensen's hand closed around his entire length. "Yeah, like that."

"You _are_ big," Jensen murmured, looking down into the darkness of the sleeping bag. "Knew as soon as I saw you. Knew I had to get my hands on this." 

He gave Jared a long, hard stroke, and Jared groaned, throwing his head back. "Yeah, just like that." He let himself enjoy it for a moment longer before reaching for Jensen's jeans.

Jensen shifted closer in the confines of the sleeping bag. His grip on Jared didn't falter as Jared's fingers brushed his dick, for which Jared was grateful. It had been a long time since another man's hand had been on him, and he didn't want to miss out on any of it. 

But when he got Jensen's jeans unzipped and his hand inside, closing around the firm length there, Jensen's hand tightened almost painfully around Jared's cock. "Oh, God," Jensen muttered. "Oh, shit."

Jared teased him by rubbing his thumb around the head, and Jensen rewarded him by crashing their lips together. 

Jensen's kiss was hard and firm, just like his grip on Jared. Jared tried to shift closer so he could get their groins together, but their jeans were getting in the way. "Off," he said, yanking at the waist of Jensen's jeans.

"Impatient," Jensen muttered against his lips, but he pulled back and started shoving at his jeans.

Jared wriggled back until he was mostly outside of the sleeping bag before yanking off his jeans and briefs. He tossed them at the foot of the sleeping bag, his hoodie and shirt soon following.

"Damn."

Jared turned to see Jensen staring at him. He still had his flannel shirt on, but he was bare from the waist down. His eyes were tracking from Jared's shoulders down his chest, widening appreciatively as they went lower.

As much as Jared was enjoying the attention, he had other things in mind, and he slid back into the sleeping bag, half rolling on top of Jensen. The feel of so much skin against his was utterly amazing, and he closed his eyes as he reached down to take both of them in his hand at once.

"Fuck, yes," Jensen groaned. 

"Like that?" Jared stroked them both hard and fast, the way he liked it. 

Jensen didn't seem to object, given the way he was arching up into him, bracing his feet against the ground, knees bent and tenting up the sleeping bag. His hand slid into Jared's hair at the back of his head, pulling him down. 

Jared opened his eyes just in time to see Jensen's lust-blown gaze, and then they were kissing again, Jensen's tongue plunging into his mouth. He tightened his grip, and Jensen groaned, sliding his hand down to clasp around Jared's. 

Together, they started moving faster, grinding together in the same rhythm, tongues slipping and tangling together. Jared wasn't sure which one of them was grunting, or maybe they both were, but it was just another sign of how awesome this felt, and how soon he was going to—

He moaned into Jensen's mouth as he came, driving up into their joined hands with a long, hard thrust. Jensen was right behind, shuddering underneath him before letting out a long, low moan that practically reverberated through his chest.

There was no sound for a moment but their heavy breaths. Jared eventually reached outside of the sleeping bag to find his t-shirt, using it to clean off their hands before swiping it over Jensen's chest.

"Thanks," Jensen said, letting his head flop onto his camp pillow. 

"Thank _you_ ," Jared replied in the sleaziest tone he could manage.

Jensen lifted an eyebrow, and Jared grinned at him. Then he let his face fall. "No, seriously. Thank you. For making a move like that. You took a big risk."

"Not really. And I hope you're usually more subtle than that. Most guys wouldn't be too happy with another man looking at them the way you were lookin' at me all day."

"Yeah, but most guys aren't as hot as you," Jared said.

Jensen rolled his eyes in response.

"Believe me, I don't—I hide it all the time. It's just—it's really hard to find someone else like me. I certainly didn't expect it up here in the woods."

"Someone else like you. What, like a guy from Texas?" Jensen's voice sounded off somehow.

"No." Jared shook his head, wishing he could see Jensen's face more clearly. "Someone who's, you know. Who's gay."

"Whoa." Jensen rolled around within the sleeping bag, one hand against Jared's chest. "I'm not…that."

Jared frowned. "What do you mean?"

Jensen's voice dropped, as if there might be someone lurking outside their tent to overhear. "I'm not a homosexual."

Jared stared at him. "But you just…we just…" He gestured back and forth between the two of them.

"That doesn't _mean_ anything." Jensen pulled out of Jared's embrace, rising up onto one elbow, his voice sharpening. "You're not going to put it in your article, are you? Because if the Survey found out—"

"No!" Jared drew back as if he'd been burned. "First of all, how the fuck would I explain how I found out? Second, why the fuck would I do that? Do you think I don't know what it's like to worry about your job if someone finds out about you?"

"I don't worry about my job because I don't do _this_." Jensen sighed. "At least, not with anyone I know."

"Oh, that makes it better." Jared retorted. "Because fucking strange men definitely means you're not gay."

"Shut up, all right?" Jensen rolled onto his back. "God, I should have known this would be a bad idea."

A torrent of angry words was waiting to spill forth if Jared just opened his mouth. Intellectually, he understood where Jensen was coming from: the fear of discovery made him clamp down so hard on even the slightest indication that he might be different from everyone else. Jared was the same way, after all, even if he was at least willing to admit to _himself_ who he was and whom he wanted.

But part of the awkwardness filling the tent right now was that this was technically a professional situation, and he couldn’t fuck it up any more than he already had. So instead, Jared sat up and started to wriggle his way out of the sleeping bag. "I should go and sleep in my tent."

Jensen sighed and put a hand on his wrist. "It's cold out there, Jared. You can stay in here if you want."

For some reason, it was that bit of concern that made Jared angrier than anything else Jensen had said. Jared literally bit his tongue as he shoved his legs into his briefs and jeans, yanking his jacket on over his bare shoulders. He jammed his feet into his boots. "No, I'd better be in my own sleeping bag," he shot over his shoulder as he rose up onto his knees and scrambled for the tent flap. "Wouldn't want any bears to see us coming out of the same tent in the morning."

"Jared, wait," Jensen called.

Jared was already unzipping the tent and stepping outside. He hadn't been able to resist the sharp retort, and he hoped it didn't come back to bite him in the ass in the morning.

Jared heard a yelp and a rustle behind him as Jensen dove inside his sleeping bag. It _was_ cold out here, but he was still overheated from their earlier activities, and the chill felt good on his hot cheeks. He silently cursed his willingness to take Jensen up on his offer without even knowing what that offer entailed, or without even knowing Jensen. Now, he might well have ruined the next couple of days, and maybe his overall prospects of getting a good story out of this trip. 

Nothing to do now except try and get some sleep.

 

May 17, 1980

When Jared woke up, it took a moment for him to remember where he was. It was _cold_ , for one thing, and the ground underneath him was hard. Not that he wasn't used to waking up in some out-of-the-ordinary places, but in a tent meant out in the woods, and that meant—

The volcano. Right. He was within spitting distance of an active volcano that could get really active at any moment, as he'd learned from Jensen—

Oh. Shit. That had happened.

Jared scrubbed his fingers through his hair, glad that he'd remembered to run some water from the canteen over his hands last night. The water had been freezing cold, but it was better than waking up with someone else's spunk dried on his fingers. Because it wasn't going to be awkward enough already, being stuck up here with Jensen for two more days.

He sighed and straightened his beanie. They were both professionals. They could handle this.

When Jared emerged from the tent, he found Jensen already at the instrument cluster, peering through the camera viewfinder. He cleared his throat as he approached. "Any change since yesterday?"

Jensen gave a start but didn't look away from the camera. "Nothing that I can see," he said. "We'll know more after going down to Windy Ridge."

Jared frowned. "Where's that?" 

"It directly overlooks the mountain," Jensen said. "We've got some equipment set up there that I need to check in on. Might be good for your article."

Jared pressed his lips together. Apparently they were going to ignore that last night even happened. All things considered, that was not the worst outcome, and so he nodded. "Just let me know if I can help." 

They ate a quick breakfast of granola bars, and then Jensen was packing some of his gear in the car. Jared fiddled with his camera, taking a few shots of the mountain with low-lying clouds nearly obscuring its peak, but mostly trying to stay out of Jensen's way. 

Soon they were in the pickup, bouncing their way down the same road Jared had come up the previous day, but in the opposite direction. The mountain seemed to loom closer with every curve they took, winding their way up and over a ridge. When they came out into a clearing, Jared's breath caught at the view. "Wow."

Jensen did just as Genevieve had done the previous day at a different spot, pulling into a wide spot along the shoulder and coming to a halt. "Spirit Lake," he said, gesturing at the view in front of them.

The bright blue lake looked like a jewel set within its valley. The same dark trees as everywhere else—Jensen had mentioned yesterday they were Douglas Fir—marched down to the water's edge, deep green against twinkling blue. Mt. St. Helens was a grey-and-white cone rising majestically in the background, and Jared couldn't help but think that from the lake's edge, it would almost seem to be filling the sky.

"Is that where we're going?" he asked.

"No, to the ridge overlooking it." Jensen shifted the truck's gears as he pulled them back onto the road. 

"You got a map?" Jared asked.

There was a small pile of papers on the dashboard that Jensen had moved from the front seat to give Jared room to sit. He pointed at the pile, and Jared grabbed it and started to rifle through it.

He flipped past reports and equipment requisitions and newspaper articles until he came to a folded-up topographic map. He spread it across his lap, tracing with his finger the route that he and Genevieve had followed the previous day. He found Bear Meadow, and then kept tracking down the road until it ended at Windy Ridge.

"Wow," Jared said. "We're going to be right on top of it."

"Pretty much," Jensen replied. "So stay close, all right? If it sounds or feels like anything is happening, we'll need to move."

"Got it," Jared said. 

"I mean it," Jensen said more tightly. "Bear Meadow is ten miles away, plenty of distance. We're only going to be about four miles away at Windy Ridge."

Jared sighed. "This isn't the first dangerous situation I've been in as part of my job, all right? I know how to listen to the experts."

"Sorry," Jensen muttered.

They went around a couple of bends in silence, and Spirit Lake was gone. The forest around them was dense, tightly-packed fir rising overhead as they bounced down the road. They passed a car parked along the roadside, a tent pitched a few feet away, but no one was visible. Then it was back into the forest.

Jared cleared his throat, needing to break the silence. "Is this a logging area? We passed a few clear cuts on the way in."

"Yeah, it will be." Jensen spoke quickly, as if grateful for the question. "National Forest land is open to logging, and Weyerhauser and a few other companies move through here. There's some crews working right now west of here."

"I'd think they'd be more concerned about the possibility of an eruption."

"Oh, they're plenty concerned. They're in radio contact at all times, and they took a few days off when the first eruptions started. But that was almost two months ago, and there's trees to cut, you know?"

"Yeah, I guess so," Jared replied. "It just seems so weird to me that people wouldn't try to get as far away as they can."

"You're here," Jensen replied. 

"Yeah, but just for a couple of days. And they can cut trees somewhere else, but this is the only place to get the story."

"Ah, but you never know if in those couple of days, it might be the big one." It was the same flirtatious tone Jared had heard the previous evening, at least until Jensen looked at him. Then he cleared his throat and said, "Sorry."

"It's okay." Jared went back to studying the map.

"No, really. I'm—I'm sorry about last night."

They rode in silence for a little ways, while Jared thought of a couple dozen different things he could say in response. Finally, he asked, "What about last night?" 

Jensen shot him a sideways look. "I should have been more clear," he said.

Jared waited for him to say more, but finally he had to ask, "More clear about what?"

They drove down a switchback before Jensen tapped the heel of his hand against the steering wheel. "See, this is why I don't like talking about things," he said. "I'd rather just…do things."

"But not admit that you do them."

Jensen arched an eyebrow in his direction. "How many people know that you like cock, hmm?"

Jared felt his cheeks flushing. "That's not what I'm talking about."

"I'm just talking about having a good time," Jensen said. "Without needing to call it something."

"You made that pretty clear last night," Jared replied, folding his arms over his chest.

The rest of the drive passed in silence. Thankfully, it was only a few minutes until the road ended, widening out into a space big enough for a couple of cars to park. Jensen stopped and clambered out of the pickup to get his equipment from the back.

Jared was staring straight ahead. The volcano was _right there_ , faintly smoking in a way he hadn't seen from their campsite. From this angle, the perfect symmetry of the cone was clearly marred by the bump on one side. It would have looked perfectly innocuous on any other mountain, but knowing that it was _growing_ by a few feet a day made it look downright sinister.

He climbed out of the cab and started setting up his tripod. These were going to be some fabulous pictures, he could already tell. The mountain nearly filled the viewfinder, and he was soon snapping away, pausing as a cloud passed overhead before clicking more shots. 

When he paused to straighten up for a moment and replace the film in his camera, Jensen was standing next to him. "How many rolls do you go through?" he asked.

"Probably twenty a day on average. More sometimes if it's a rapidly-developing situation or I'm moving around a lot." Jared unspooled the fresh roll of film far enough to get the holes along the edges in line with the sprockets in the camera. The full roll was already tucked away in the canister in his pocket. 

"I take a few pictures as part of my work, but it's not all that helpful," Jensen said. "I mean, I can't see what's on them till I get back to town."

"Yeah, I'll have to get these developed in Seattle so I can see what I've got to work with," Jared replied. 

"Do you write news stories, too, or just the pictures?"

"Mostly I get to put captions on the pictures," Jared said with a quick grin. "But it depends. If there's no other reporter with me, like here, then I might get a byline, too. Really, though, the pictures should be enough to tell the story."

Jensen gestured at the looming volcano. "If you happen to be here when she blows, you'll get a story that no one else will. With or without the pictures."

"I suppose I would," Jared replied. "I don't know, though, sometimes I'm okay with missing the story."

"That's happened before?" Jensen asked. 

"I was in Iran last year," Jared replied. Jensen's eyebrows shot up, and he went on, "I had covered the protests in '78, and I went back to see what it was like under Khomeini. My editor decided it was getting too violent and pulled me out, and a couple of weeks later, they took all those Americans hostage."

"Did you know any of them?" 

Jared shook his head. "Still, I felt like it could have been me, you know? I mean, if you want to get the good stories, you have to be willing to go anywhere, but at some point, your safety has to come first."

"I know how that goes," Jensen said.

"Yeah, I bet you do. Not much to do if there isn't an active volcano, is there?"

"Oh, there's still plenty of research we can do on past eruptions. But still, it doesn't compare to something like this." Jensen jerked a thumb towards the cluster of instruments he'd set up a few feet away. "C'mon, I'll show you what we're measuring here."

Jared followed him over, camera at the ready. He clicked away as Jensen demonstrated the various instruments. There was a tiltmeter that would tell them if the ground was deforming nearby from the pressure underneath. There was a magnometer that would tell them if the local magnetic field varied significantly, also an indication of what was going on under the surface. Surveying equipment was another way to tell if the mountain was changing shape.

He finished with the pictures and straightened up. "And there are other geologists all around the mountain, doing the same thing?"

"A few. And you might have seen all of the airplanes?" Jensen waved up at the sky.

Jared shielded his eyes with one hand and looked up. "Now that you mention it, yeah. There's what…three or four up there?"

"That's actually fewer than I've been seeing. Some of them are scientific flights, now that getting into the crater is impossible. Some of them are people who think it's cool to fly over an active volcano."

Jared shuddered. "Not me, man. I'm good here on the ground."

Jensen grinned. "In that case, go ahead and do your thing. I've got some more observations to make and radio in."

"Take your time," Jared said, spreading his hands out. "Don't let me get in your way."

Jensen opened his mouth, but then cut himself off with a rueful shake of the head. "There's granola bars in the back if you get hungry," was all he said before bending back down to his work.

Jared walked around the clearing and shot the mountain from a few other angles. He put the telephoto lens on, trying to capture the details of the wisps of steam rising from the vent, the strange dirtiness of the snow on what should be an untouched mountain peak. He angled his camera upwards, trying to capture the planes buzzing the top of the mountain. They were mostly indistinct blobs, but he got a few shots he thought would turn out all right. 

He sometimes heard the low murmur of Jensen's voice as he radioed in some of the measurements he'd been taking. There was a long back-and-forth discussion with another scientist at the Coldwater Ridge place Jensen had mentioned, someone who was swapping out for the man who'd been there for several weeks. The discussion started to get more technical, and Jared tuned out.

Telephoto off, he started photographing the ridge around them, noting the tall, dark green fir and the rough rock beneath their feet. If the volcano were to erupt, he could imagine this all covered in a fine layer of ash.

When he asked Jensen about it as they were driving back to camp, Jensen said, "Yeah, that's right. Could be a whole lot of ash, though. Some of the past ashfalls in the geologic record are several feet thick."

"Holy shit." Jared blinked, trying to comprehend that much pulverized rock falling from the sky. "Would that kill this forest?"

"Probably. I mean, I'm not an ecologist, but certainly all the undergrowth would be smothered. Whatever animals can burrow or fly away would probably be okay, but that's not really my area."

"Wow." Jared stared out the window at the forest around them. "I guess the forest survived past eruptions, though. Or at least grew back."

"That's right. I know some ecologists who are half hoping the mountain does blow so they can study how the ecosystem recovers." 

"Are you hoping for an eruption?" Jared asked.

Jensen wrinkled his nose. "Is this off the record?"

"My camera and notepad are both put away."

"Then…kind of. Not a big eruption, not enough to hurt anyone. But it would be cool to see it, you know? So much of my work is about piecing together what happened hundreds or thousands of years ago. We hardly get to see the object of our study in action. It's kind of the opposite of what you do, really." 

"I can see that," Jared said. "And you've been up here for a while, too. It would kind of be a shame if nothing happened."

"As long as everyone's safe," Jensen said. "You, me, the people who don't want to evacuate. The loggers. The car we passed a moment ago. Everyone up there flying around the mountain."

"Amen," Jared replied quietly. 

They drove back the rest of the way in silence, but there wasn't the tense feeling there had been on the way out. This was what Jared had expected this assignment to be like: learning a little science, getting some great pictures, coming to understand someone with a very important but dangerous job. This was what he liked about his own job, after all: meeting cool people and going to interesting places. Not getting tangled up with those people in ways that could get him into trouble later.

So later that night, after another backpackers' meal over the open fire, Jared didn't stay up late chatting with Jensen. He headed off to his tent as soon as it got dark, not even looking to see if Jensen was interested in a repeat of last night. Much as Jared's body might ache for it, he was leaving here in a few days and would never see Jensen again. Maybe Jensen liked it that way, but Jared wanted more of a connection. Besides, it wasn't exactly professional to be sleeping with someone he was interviewing. Better to just go to sleep than to continue with something that couldn't end well for him. 

Still, Jared tossed and turned for quite a while before finally falling asleep.

 

May 18, 1980

It was early morning when Jared jolted awake. Or, more accurately, when something jolted him awake.

He scrambled out of the tent to find Jensen already examining his instruments in the half-light. "What was that?" Jared asked.

"A small quake," Jensen replied. "I'd estimate a 3.5, but the seismometer will know for sure."

"So that's pretty small?"

"Just about enough to wake you up," Jensen said with a small smile. "But not to do any damage."

"Okay, good." Jared ran a hand through his hair. "You're sure?"

"There've been dozens of these over the past few months," Jensen replied. "Don't worry, you'll know if it happens."

That wasn't exactly reassuring, but given that Jensen was continuing to take readings as calmly as he had the day before, when the ground wasn't shaking, Jared figured it was probably okay. 

He took a moment to look up at the mountain. It wasn't smoking this morning, but the light of the sun on its eastern flank was casting shadows that he hadn't seen before. So he pulled his camera and tripod from the tent, where he'd kept them to make sure they didn't freeze, and set them up by Jensen. 

They both worked in silence for a while. Finally, Jensen straightened up and reached for the radio at his waist. "Vancouver, this is Ackles. Over."

A staticky voice came from the device. "This is Vancouver. What have you got for us? Over."

"Looks like a 3.7 quake at 6:07 A.M.," Jensen replied. "At least, that's what we recorded here."

"Johnston's saying the same from Coldwater," the voice replied. "We'll have a plane in the air in minutes ready to do a fly-by. Over."

"Roger that," Jensen replied. "Over and out."

The sun had almost fully risen by now, the view not that much different from before. Jared stretched and yawned and wondered if the powdered eggs he'd brought along to have something more substantial than granola bars were any good.

Half an hour later, he found that they were not. He watched Jensen's face as he took a bite and then pretended to find them palatable. But he couldn't hold back a snort, and soon Jensen was laughing as well. "Guess it's hard to have tasty breakfast food up here, right?" Jared asked.

"I've been eating so much trail mix, I think it's coming out my ears," Jensen replied. "At least there's coffee, though."

Jared sipped on the instant coffee Jensen had made for them, trying not to burn his fingers on the metal mug. The coffee was dark and bitter, but it was chasing away the last vestiges of tiredness, and that was really all he could ask for. "So what's the plan for today?"

"Depends on if there's any more quakes," Jensen said. "They might need me to go back out to Windy Ridge and check the readings there. Johnston's going to try using the laser to see if the bulge has changed its rate of growth. Till then, there's not much to do."

So Jared cleaned up after their breakfast, organized the few belongings in his tent, and checked to make sure their food was safely secured in the truck. That took about half an hour, and then he was staring at the mountain again. 

There was a rattle of pebbles on the road below their camp, but no vehicle was driving by. Jared wasn't sure if it was his imagination, but it felt like the ground had shifted beneath his feet.

When he turned to ask Jensen, he found him already looking at his seismometer. "Another mid-three," he was muttering. "Guess we've got a cluster going today."

Jared folded his arms over his chest and looked up at the mountain. He really didn't relish the thought of getting as close to it as they had yesterday if it was shaking like this. Earthquakes could be the prelude to an eruption, and given how slow their driving had been on the rutted road, he didn't like the idea of trying to outrun an eruption. 

He took a deep breath and forced himself to focus on his job, like Jensen was doing. He was here to learn about a volcanologist at work, and what better opportunity was there than this?

It was a little after eight when Jensen finished taking his readings and radioing them in. The voice at the other end, coming from the U.S. Geological Survey office in Vancouver, WA, mentioned that they had their plane in the air. Jared could see a couple of aircraft circling the mountain's tip and wondered if that was something Genevieve could set him up with. He'd have to grit his teeth to deal with the height, but it would make for some pretty amazing pictures to round off his story.

Jensen was talking with the other volcanologist a few ridges over, and Jared turned away. He'd been taking some photos of Jensen at work, but now he set his camera on its tripod again, aimed at the mountain. He couldn't follow the technical talk, so he tuned Jensen out until he set down the radio.

Rubbing his hands together in the still-chilly air, he was about to say something when Jensen held his hand up. "Listen," he said sharply.

Heart suddenly pounding, Jared strained his ears. After a moment, he shook his head. "I don't hear anything."

"The birds," Jensen replied, looking around the meadow. "They were chirping just a minute ago. Then they stopped."

"Look." Jared pointed at the sky. Rising from the trees around them, in all directions, were dozens of birds. Their calls echoed across the meadow as they wheeled around as if confused. They didn't come back to land, but they weren't going anywhere, either, just circling through the air.

And then the ground shook.

It wasn't much harder than the jolt that had awakened Jared. At least, not at first. But then it kept going. He felt his legs become unsteady, and his hands went out to the side for balance. 

Jensen was already moving to his cluster of instruments, bowed legs rolling a little before the ground stabilized. "At least a five," he said, bending to pick up binoculars.

Instinctively, Jared moved to his camera. He could hear a rumble now, distant but growing. It occurred to him that was kind of weird to be hearing that sound _after_ the ground had stopped moving. He was about to say something when Jensen burst out, "Holy shit!" 

Jared looked up at the mountain. There was something dark at the top that hadn't been there before, something like…

Jensen's radio crackled to life. "Vancouver, Vancouver! This is it!"

Jared bent to his camera, hands suddenly shaking. In his excitement, he hit the side of the camera before his fingers could close over the case. When he looked through the viewfinder, the volcano's peak was no longer in the center of the frame, but off to the left. Jared started clicking as fast as he could anyway. There was no time to correct. There was a dark plume shooting up from the mountain top, and on the northern face where that ominous bulge had been growing—

 _The entire north side of the mountain was sliding away_.

Jared took the pictures automatically, brain not quite processing that the whole goddamn fucking mountain looked like it was rippling and falling down. The dark grey plume continued to shoot skyward, growing in size. A few seconds later, a second dark cloud started to ripple out of that horrifying sight that had been the mountain's north face. Jared kept snapping pictures, trying to record as much as he could in the time that he had.

"Jared," Jensen said, grabbing his arm. "We need to go."

His finger kept moving on the shutter. "Just a few more. This is incredible."

"Now!" Jensen snatched up camera, tripod and all, before shoving it at Jared. "That's not just an ashfall. That's a blast cloud. And it's coming right at us."

Now that Jared wasn't concentrating on his photography, he noticed that the rumble was getting louder and louder, more like a roar. The cloud was hundreds of feet in the air by now, and he thought with a jolt of the airplanes he'd seen buzzing around the mountaintop just a few minutes ago.

Then Jensen jerked hard on his arm, and he snatched up his camera bag from the ground before following at a half-run to the truck. They clambered into the front seat, Jared's tripod and camera jammed between them, and then Jensen was reversing fast down the hill until they bumped onto the road. "Hang on," he said unnecessarily, and then he floored it.

Jared fumbled for his seat belt as they jounced down the rutted logging road. He could barely hear the sound of the truck's engine, overwhelmed as it was by the roar from outside. The brakes squealed as they came to a turn, the rear tires slipping a little as they swept around the corner. The stack of papers on the dashboard slid back and forth, and Jared grabbed at them to make sure they weren't getting in Jensen's way.

"Make sure the windows are rolled up," Jensen ordered as he approached a switchback, fumbling with the gear shift.

Dropping the papers on the floor, Jared double-checked his own window before turning to look behind him. The little window between the cab and the back of the truck was cracked open, and he slid it shut. When the truck straightened out again, he noticed that Jensen's window was cracked open as well. "Just getting your window," he said, bending low and leaning over Jensen's lap.

"Hang on," Jensen muttered, and Jared braced himself against the seat. The truck swung hard to the right, planting Jared's face in Jensen's thigh. He waited till the turn was over before reaching beneath Jensen's arms, whose hands were locked on the steering wheel, and cranking the window up the rest of the way.

When he pulled back to sit up again, he realized how dark it was getting. The roar from outside was incredible, and he cast a glance over his shoulder at where he thought the mountain would be. He couldn't see anything besides trees, though. There wasn't much point in getting out his camera in these conditions, so he grabbed the door handle and hung on as they bounced their way down the hill. 

They flew across a small bridge and started up the other side. Jensen pressed the truck to go even faster, and this time when Jared looked back, he could see a boiling, dark grey cloud in the distance. Not so distant, actually, he realized, and he unconsciously leaned forward in his seat as if he could make the truck go faster. 

They rocketed up the side of the small valley, fishtailing on the switchbacks. The roar was ever louder, the dark cloud ever closer. Jared gritted his teeth and shut his eyes, willing the truck to carry them just a little faster…

They rounded one more corner, and then they were on a sharp downhill. Jensen slowed the truck a little, flicking on the headlights. "You all right?" he called out. 

"Why are you slowing down?" Jared demanded.

"We're over the ridge," Jensen replied. "Should deflect the blast cloud away from us."

"'Should,'" Jared echoed. 

Jensen downshifted as they raced on down the hill. "Yeah, and if it doesn't, not much I can do about it at this point."

The roar was still there, but muted somehow. The sky was about as dark as twilight overhead even though it was—he checked his watch—8:45 in the morning. Jared looked around nervously, but there was nothing to see except the trees. "Are we out of it, then?"

"I have no idea." Jensen gestured at the papers at Jared's feet. "Find the map. I know we have to cross another stream before we get to the county road, but I don't know offhand which way it flows."

"Why does that matter?" Jared asked as he searched through the papers.

"If it's flows from the north, off of Rainier, we're fine. If it flows from the south, off of St. Helens, there might be a whole lot of debris in it. All the snow that was on the top of the peak is now liquid, and it's going to be carrying everything in its way as it comes downhill."

"Uh, okay." Jared had found the map, and he spread it out over his legs. It was getting hard to see, and he squinted at the paper. He found Bear Meadows where they'd started easily enough, and he traced his finger down the curving line of the road, over the black contour lines that showed the hills around them, bending closer to see in the dim light. A thin blue line crossed their path up ahead, and he squinted at it. "Uh oh," he finally muttered.

"Coming from the south?" Jensen asked.

"Yep."

The only reply Jensen made was to hit the accelerator again. Jared grimly hung on to the door handle, watching the world grow dimmer around them.

They crested another, smaller ridge, and Jared looked back once more. All he could see was that roiling dark cloud swallowing up everything behind them. It seemed to be going past them, though, like they were driving perpendicular to it. Or at least as much as they could be on these twisting roads. Maybe they were going to make it out of the worst of the eruption.

Something thunked against the top of the truck, and Jensen swerved slightly. "Watch the windows," he ordered. "Let me know if anything's headed our way."

Jared stared at him. "Like what?"

"Like rocks. The top of the mountain just got flung into the air. It's gotta come back down at some point."

"Shit." Jared craned his head to look out of the window and upward. He didn't dare open the window, not with rocks flying around outside. "It's getting so dark," he said. "I don't know if I can see anything."

"Keep an eye out anyway," Jensen replied, bouncing around another turn.

A few minutes passed, and then Jared heard a light sound on the roof. "Is it raining?" he asked incredulously.

"It's not water," Jensen replied. "It's ash. We call it a 'hard rain.' That's more of the mountain falling down on us, just pulverized into tiny pieces."

Jared looked nervously at the road in front of them. "Can you see to drive?"

Visibility was dropping further, but Jensen wasn't slowing down. "Eventually, the ash will clog the engine. We've gotta be past that bridge before that happens. Hopefully, out to the main road, but I'll take what I can get."

They rode on in grim silence. There was an occasional clank on the roof, but even though Jared was looking out the window, he couldn't see anything coming. It was like a thick snowfall, except instead of glistening white, it was a dingy grey.

He bent down to look at the map again, following the trace of the road and trying to think of the last few turns they'd made. "Just a little farther to the bridge," he said.

"Good." Jensen leaned forward, squinting over the steering wheel at the disappearing trace of the road in front of them. The headlights cut through the falling ash, but Jared could only see a few dozen yards in front of them. It felt like they were going way too fast for the conditions, but he trusted that Jensen knew what he was doing.

They slid around another turn, almost going off the road, but Jensen fought with the wheel and kept them on track. The noise from outside was growing again—not the same deep roar as before, but a rushing sound that was louder and louder the farther they went.

When they made the next turn, Jared gasped. Through the ashfall, he could barely see down into a small valley with the little stream at the bottom that he'd seen on the map. But the stream was no longer small or picturesque. Instead, it was a torrent of mud, with darker shapes surging through it. The roaring sound was the water and everything it was carrying, smashing through the valley and uprooting more rocks and trees as it went. It almost looked like it was alive, roiling and seething. 

Jensen came to a stop at the base of the bridge. It was a simple concrete span with a railing along the sides, slightly narrower than the two-lane dirt road. The torrent rushing along and above the streambed was up to the underside of the bridge, water and mud splashing onto the deck of the bridge itself. Occasionally, a rock or tree being carried along would smack into the bridge, sometimes with no effect, but sometimes making it shudder on its footing.

Jared leaned closer so he could be heard over the roar. "Gun it and hope for the best?"

Jensen grimaced. "I don't know how much stress the bridge has already taken from all of this crap slamming into it," he called back. "The weight of the truck might be too much."

"What other choice do we have?"

"Damn it." Jensen slammed his hand against the steering wheel. "All right. Take off your seatbelt and be ready to jump if you need to."

Jared eyed the mass of muddy water, clogged with tree limbs and rocks, and wondered how fast he'd be pulverized if he fell in. But he did as Jensen asked, and then braced himself against the dashboard. "Go!"

Jensen put the truck in gear and eased it forward.

The bridge shook a little as they rolled onto it, and Jensen pressed down on the gas. Jared looked upstream, watching nervously as the muddy water seemed to rise higher on the banks. The ash was still falling, and he could barely see up the creek, but the sounds of debris striking the bridge were clear enough. "Can you speed up?"

"You see something?"

"No, I just—wait." Jared squinted into the dim light. Then his jaw dropped. Was that a shadow, or was that—"Go, go, go!"

Jensen didn't question him, and for that, Jared was grateful. The truck leapt forward as Jensen slammed on the gas, and they hurtled across the shaking bridge and onto the far side. 

A second after they reached solid land, there was a tremendous thud. Jensen kept going for a few feet up the other side before slowing the truck to a stop. He and Jared turned around to see a boulder half the size of their truck embedded in the upstream side of the bridge, bowing the railing in. The water rushing around it was over the top of the bridge now, and even as they watched, the deck disappeared below the stream.

"Good timing," Jared said shakily.

Jensen nodded in agreement. "Now it's just a question of how long the engine holds out." He patted the dashboard. "C'mon, girl, show us what you've got."

They lumbered up the hill and away from the now-creaking bridge. The roar of the swollen stream faded as they rounded a bend, and soon there was only the rustle of the tires on the ground and the soft grey ash falling from above.

The engine shuddered a few times as they made their way down the rest of the logging road, but it held steady. At 9:30, just about an hour after the eruption started, they were finally turning onto the paved county road, and Jared let out a long sigh.

"We're not out of the woods yet," Jensen cautioned, but he did sit back in his seat a little, fingers relaxing slightly on the wheel. 

It was about ten minutes later when he slowed down to a crawl. "There's something in the road," he said. As they got closer, they saw it was a roadblock: two sawhorses angled across the road and a state police car on the far side, with a trooper standing next to the car and a cluster of people behind him. Ash had collected like dirty snow on the roof of the car, and as Jensen pulled up and rolled down his window, flakes started to drift in.

"Where'd you boys come from?" the trooper asked.

"Bear Meadows," Jensen replied.

"How is it up there?"

Jensen shook his head, and for the first time, Jared saw how tired he looked. "Bad. Not just the ash, but the blast—we didn't expect it to happen like this."

"How many other people were up there with you?"

"Just us," Jensen said. "We saw a car yesterday closer to Windy Ridge, and then whoever was down at Spirit Lake. But I don't think…" He trailed off and shook his head.

"Anyone behind you?"

"Not that we know of. Bridge over Iron Creek wasn't gonna last much longer anyway."

The trooper nodded. "You hear that, folks?" he yelled over his shoulder. "You're not gettin' any closer!"

Jared leaned forward, astonished. "They're trying to go _towards_ the mountain?"

"They think it's cool," the trooper replied with a snort. He looked inside the cab of the truck, and his eyebrows shot up. "You got pictures?"

"I'm a photojournalist, so yeah. At least, I think I got some pictures."

"Good for you. You guys should get on out of here. If you keep going north, you'll hit Randle and Route 12. Take that west; the ash seems to moving to the east. That'll take you to I-5. Here, let me move the barricades."

"Hold on." Jensen held up a hand. "Has there been any word from the other geologists? From…from Coldwater?"

The man shook his head. "I don't know. I'm just trying to keep people safe and out of the way."

"All right. Thanks." Jensen chewed at a thumbnail while the trooper moved the sawhorse, and then he drove on past the small crowd that was dispersing back to their cars. 

They drove in silence through the ashfall. Some of the flakes had landed on the front seat while the window was open, and Jared scooped up a few and rubbed them between his fingers. It didn't leave a dark smear like wood ash; it was tiny pieces of grit, harsh against his skin. The engine coughed a few times as Jensen shifted into a higher gear, but it seemed to hold steady.

When they wound their way down into the small town of Randle, Jensen pulled into the gas station and came to a stop. "I'm sorry, but I've gotta drop you off here."

Jared stared at him. "What?"

"You can call your friend at the Seattle paper, let her know you're okay. I can leave you some money, and there's a Forest Service office here that can help you—"

"Where are you going?"

Jensen rubbed his hand over his face. "I have to know what happened to David," he said. "And everyone else who was up there watching the mountain. I have to know that they're okay."

"You heard what the police said," Jared replied. "The best thing to do right now is to get out of the area."

Jensen shook his head. "That's the best thing for you, but this my _job_. I'm supposed to understand this volcano. I have to be here in order to do that. I have to figure out what happened, and how we could have screwed this up."

"You didn't screw anything up, you—"

"People are dead, Jared. I can guarantee you that. The people whose tent and car we passed yesterday, and the people down at Spirit Lake, and the other—" Jensen broke off, shaking his head. "I'm sorry, but I have to figure out what went wrong. We should've been able to predict this better."

Jared grimaced. "I can respect that."

Jensen gave him a faint smile. "Maybe that's how you can end your story about me, huh?"

He smiled back just as sadly. "Maybe I will."

"Take care of yourself, Jared." Jensen held out a hand. 

There was an apology in Jensen's eyes, and Jared wanted to believe it was about more than just leaving him to fend for himself. He shook Jensen's hand firmly. "You too, Jensen. Be careful."

"Always," Jensen said with a smile that crinkled the corners of his eyes and made Jared want to stay in the front side beside him forever.

But he climbed out of the truck, camera and tripod clutched in one hand, camera bag in the other. And he watched Jensen drive away. 

 

One month later

Jared flipped through the folder of photographs for what felt like the hundredth time. He'd long since chosen the best ones; hell, the piece based on them had run three weeks ago and was garnering him all sorts of acclaim. But he couldn't stop looking at the images anyway.

There was Jensen looking at his instruments, the sun setting over the slightly-marred peak of the mountain, the peaceful meadow around them…and then the dark cloud bursting out of the mountain. It was an image that he knew would never leave his mind, like the shot of the ash cloud rising into the sky taken from one of the planes and helicopters that had miraculously all made it safely away from the eruption. 

Jared closed the folder and tossed it onto the coffee table, rubbing his eyes. There were other things he needed to be doing, like pitching a new assignment to his editor about recording the aftermath of Mt. St. Helens. Since the big eruption, the mountain had gone quiet again, more or less. The landscape had been dramatically altered in a handful of minutes, but it was going to take years to understand it all. Jared wanted to be there, at least for the initial stages. 

For purely professional reasons, he told himself. 

The doorbell rang, and Jared gave a start. He didn't have a whole lot of visitors, given how frequently he was away, which probably meant it was a salesman. Rising from the couch, he prepared to sent the visitor away as quickly as he could.

But when he swung open the door, Jensen was standing there.

Jared blinked. "Hi," he finally said.

"Hi." Jensen was in the same outfit of jeans and flannel that he'd worn in the forest, USGS ball cap jammed down on his head. Here, in the middle of the city, it made him look out of place. Or maybe that was the uncertainty on his face. "Can I come in?"

"Yeah, sure!" Jared stepped back and held a hand out to the side. "I wasn't expecting visitors, so it's—"

"Don't worry about it." Jensen came inside and took off his hat. "It was kind of a spur of the moment thing."

"How'd you find me?" Jared asked as he closed the door.

"Told someone at the paper I wanted to thank you in person for the great profile you ran." Jensen shrugged one shoulder. "They gave me your address, so here I am."

"You came all the way from Washington?" Jared stared at him.

Jensen shook his head. "I was visiting my family. Mom was a little freaked out by the eruption, and my boss gave me a couple of days off. Said I'd been working too hard and needed to take a break." He lowered his voice. "Said he didn't want to lose anyone else to the job."

"Yeah." Jared led the way into the living room, where they sat at opposite ends of the couch. "I heard about your colleague who didn't make it. I'm really sorry."

"Yeah, me too." Jensen sighed. "It could've been me, you know? Just dumb luck that Johnston was filling in at Coldwater instead of someone else."

Jared shivered. The thought of Jensen being overcome by that blast cloud had hit him in more than one nightmare in the past month.

Jensen shot him a quick look and went on, "I heard about that photographer, too. The one they found buried in the ash, lying on top of his backpack with his film wrapped up inside. Did you know him?"

"No, but I know guys like him." Jared snorted. "Hell, I'm a guy like him."

"You'd do what he did?" Jensen asked. "You'd give your life to save some film?"

"He knew he wasn't going to make it. He didn't have the road out that we did. The best thing he could do was take pictures until the last minute, then rewind his film into its canister and protect it as best he could." Jared shrugged. "It's part of the job. Even if you don't make it, the images and the stories that go with them can still get out. And you guys are going to be able to get something out of his pictures, right?"

"Yeah, I guess so." Jensen looked away. "Just like yours. Those were some great shots, man."

"I thought I'd screwed it all up, but they turned out pretty well."

"There's never been a volcano that erupted the way this one did, and you got it on film." Jensen shook his head. "That's pretty amazing."

"Just doing my job," Jared replied.

Jensen nodded but didn't reply.

They sat in silence for a while, Jared fidgeting a little. Finally, when he couldn't take it anymore, he asked, "Why are you here, Jensen?"

Jensen sighed. Then he rose to his feet and started pacing across the living room. "I heard about this photographer, and I just—I couldn't stop thinking about him. Of how it could have been you."

"Just like you could have been the guy at Coldwater Ridge," Jared replied quietly. 

"But if you hadn’t come up there to interview me. If you hadn't been at Bear Meadows with me, with the truck right there…" Jensen trailed off and then sighed. "If you hadn't stuck with me even after I was such a dick. If you'd gone off on your own to get pictures from somewhere else and not made it out…that would have been on me."

"No, it would have been me doing a bad job," Jared retorted. He stood up as well, coming to face Jensen and stopping him in his tracks. "I was there to report on you, not on the volcano. I was—Look, it was really unprofessional, what we did. I've never gotten involved with a subject like that, and I'm sorry." 

"I'm not." Jensen turned to face him, his jaw set. "I mean, I'm sorry for what I said after. But I'm not sorry we did it."

Jared frowned, folding his arms over his chest. "What are you saying, Jensen?"

Jensen ran a hand over his jaw. "I'm saying that it's hard when you meet someone you're interested in and the odds are better they'll punch you in the face than go along with you."

"Tell me something I don't know."

"I shouldn't have freaked out on you like that." Jensen stood up taller, lifting his chin. "I'm sorry."

Jared bit his lip. He wanted so badly to accept what Jensen was saying, but his earlier vehement denial had cut a little too deep. "What would you do differently?" he asked. "If you got to do it over?"

Jensen took a deep breath. "I wouldn't push you away so fast. I wouldn't—I'm not saying that I'd do anything in public, but—"

"I wouldn't either." Jared shook his head. "I know that's not safe."

Jensen nodded slowly. "I wish it was different."

"Me too." Jared shrugged one shoulder. "But yeah, I get it. And I accept your apology."

"Good." A swift smile flashed across Jensen's face. "I'm glad I caught you here, then. I'm sure you must be about to jet off somewhere else for another story."

"Actually…" Jared moved a step closer. "I was about to pitch a new idea to my editor, and I think you could help."

Jensen raised an eyebrow but didn't say anything.

"I want to go back," Jared said. "I've seen pictures of what the mountain looks like now, with half its top gone. And the millions of trees that were knocked down, and Spirit Lake so much higher than it used to be with all the debris that fell into it and pushed the water level up. I want to get in there before the lumber companies take out all the fallen trees, and I want to be there as the scientists figure out what happened and how it's all going to grow back." He gave Jensen a small smile. "Maybe you could help me out with that?"

A slow smile spread across Jensen's face. "I already know you do good work in the field."

"I could definitely help you out," Jared said. Then his face fell. "But I don't—I want to be professional about it this time. I don't want to get confused."

Jensen nodded. "I'm okay with that. I screwed it up before, after all."

"That doesn't mean I don't want to get to know you better," Jared said. "And maybe when my work is done…who knows?"

"Yeah, who knows?" Jensen leaned closer. For a moment, Jared thought he was going to kiss him, and his heart skipped a beat. But instead, Jensen clapped Jared on the shoulder before stepping back. "I'll go with you to talk to your editor if you want, or send a letter, or whatever you need. Those pictures you took are already incredibly helpful, and I can't wait to see what else you can do."

"What _we_ can do," Jared replied. 

Jensen's smile grew, and Jared smiled back more brightly. Working alongside Jensen, telling a story with his pictures, learning about the land and the aftermath of the eruption…he couldn't think of anything better. 

Well, he could definitely think of _something_ better, but that would have to wait. This time, though, they'd do it right. And that was the best thing to look forward to of all.

**Author's Note:**

> The famous photos of Mt. St. Helens that Jared took in this story were actually taken by Gary Rosenquist, who did in fact accidentally move his camera to the side, inadvertently getting much more useful photographs given the way the eruption happened. David Johnston, the volcanologist on Coldwater Ridge, and Robert Landsburg, the photographer protecting his film, were among the fifty-seven people who died in the volcano's eruption. May they rest in peace.


End file.
